Hello everyone! I am a current student in fifth grade at Dental uni. Here in Europe from the country I live in and study we graduate highschool and have those harsh entry exams to get into Dentistry. After six years we have state exams and we are done. Now I do know people from the USA will ask what I am complaining about as we have no loans. We pay minimal taxes at uni and get a diploma at the end. But let me tell you the other side of it. As I live and will be working in a country that relies heavily on mass tourism in summer and winter we are not that well developed which means most of the peope won't be paying for implants and veneers but for tooth extractions and bridges.. This is why most of the dental clinics here are either concentrated at the wealthy 2 percent of the population or most of the dentist get less money than the avarage IT worker lets say. Sometimes they pay you salaries that are paid even at Lidl. I do not want to own a clinic as it is too expensive to start bussiness here and before uou do you need to pay crazy money for dental coures - things they do not teach you at uni. I gave up the idea of becoming an orthodontist as one course for a week costs like 10 000 ... And imagine how you will collect that with a salary of 1500 a month. Food, electicity and so on is as in every other western european country which means we survive on the edge. However another thing is the studying during the first 4 years is sooo unnecessary filled with pure medicla subjects. The professors that are examining you are working at the hospital and couldn't care less that you will become a dentist at the exam and ask you crazy medicine orientated questions that you forget after the exams as it is heavy subjects that you learn for one semester and beside it you are supposed to learn the other dental subjects as well. We have around 12 subjects in total per semested. (My opinion only but most of those medical subjects are useless and are being taught just because some of the professors need a job..) At the end of the day the best dentistry orientated professors that I really admire at out uni are Implantologists, Prosthetic dentists and Faciomaxillar surgeons and the board exams are concentrated heavely on these subjects. I am a woman and not that it matters but I have no interest in surgery and applied to become a dentist because I was interested in conservative dentistry which now seems as one percent of all the study we do here to get a diploma. I get tired easily and have no interest to see any surgeries in my career. I do not know what to do really. I need to study for all of these exams to get the dimploma but my future does not seem greener after graduation. Why the hell shall I study so many details as for example from where we take bone for bone augumentation. Step by step how to do it. All of the nerves and vessels name by name. Where they come from and how they form in each structure of the sculp.... I do well at exams. I get the good grades . I study but what for.. I do not want to know all these and work it at the end of the day.. Did I choose wrong? Is dentistry all this perio and surgery at the end of the day... I am not sure that I will be a good dentist as all of the material aways seems hard enough and I do want to work something that does not assume you to know all this material as it is thing that in clinica you forget. What bacteria, what percent...
Why is the education system like this? Am I the one who is not in the right place or is it another life after dental uni? Should I just become a nailtech hahah. Like less studying lots of clients...
Thank you in advance all for your future comments.
Excuse my English . Thank you once again.

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SnowrunnerIRL

Just picked up a KTM 625 smc. Looking for tires I can take on the highway, and good enough on dirt roads for the few miles to and from my house, maybe the occasional trail. The bike came with slicks and I can get in and out but it's slippery and I go slow. There are also winding paved roads on the way to town after the dirt. I might just get Shinko 705's (would I want the 150 or 170mm wide rear, there isn't a 160? Go smaller right? ). K73s also look interesting. Too bad there aren't really tube type options.
I've been reading reviews and watching videos, but even 90/10 tires people seem to think the audience wants to watch them skid all over on rocks and mud, it's really weird. I'm new to this but taking it slow, and wow, it's more fun than I thought.

Just picked up a KTM 625 smc. Looking for tires I can take on the highway, and good enough on dirt roads for the few miles to and from my house, maybe the occasional trail. The bike came with slicks and I can get in and out but it's slippery and I go slow. There are also winding paved roads on the way to town after the dirt. I might just get Shinko 705's (would I want the 150 or 170mm wide rear, there isn't a 160? Go smaller right? )
I've been reading reviews and watching videos, but even 90/10 tires people seem to think the audience wants to watch them skid all over on rocks and mud, it's really weird. I'm new to this but taking it slow, and wow, it's more fun than I thought.

me(16m) and my family were driving home from Applebee's when a white Silverado swerved across our lane down into the ditch and straight into a tree,
since were not dicks we pull off to the side of the road me and my dad jumped out and ran down the ditch to the truck and let me tell you it was BAD he had hit a pretty thick tree going about 65 70 mph the roof was peeled back like a tuna can lid shit was quite literally fucked,
i started dialing 911 and began trying to relay where the accident had happened and what the situation was, whilst i was talking to the dispatcher i noticed 5.3 vortec exhaust manifolds sticking out of the wheel well (5.3 vortec's are a fucking power house when it has the right things done to it) for a split second i wondered if i could end up getting my hands on that motor for cheap.
the guy did not make it out he was dead before he hit the tree
does this make me a bad person or is it just my undiagnosed autism
ps. sorry for shit layout and all its late and im tired

me(16m) and my family were driving home from Applebee's when a white Silverado swerved across our lane down into the ditch and straight into a tree,
since were not dicks we pull off to the side of the road me and my dad jumped out and ran down the ditch to the truck and let me tell you it was BAD he had hit a pretty thick tree going about 65 70 mph the roof was peeled back like a tuna can lid shit was quite literally fucked,
i started dialing 911 and began trying to relay where the accident had happened and what the situation was, whilst i was talking to the dispatcher i noticed 5.3 vortec exhaust manifolds sticking out of the wheel well (5.3 vortec's are a fucking power house when it has the right things done to it) for a split second i wondered if i could end up getting my hands on that motor for cheap.
the guy did not make it out he was dead before he hit the tree
does this make me a bad person or is it just my undiagnosed autism
ps. sorry for shit layout and all its late and im tired

Context, 05 Chevy silverado extended cab Z71 package bone stock. Previously had issue where ABS light was on, 2hi worked fine, 4 low worked fine, 4 hi worked fine. 4 auto would throw a "Service 4WD" message when in low traction environment. I've ignored the problem for months as i don't mind having to engage 4wd manually. However recently i decided to test 4 Auto again and stopped by a gravel pit to see if i could replicate the problem. I could not. ABS light is still on and the only thing i've done to the truck is clean the fuse box and change the oil. What could have caused this?

For reference: Woman. 30. Weigh 174 at time of posting. 5'5"
I hired a personal fitness trainer at the beginning of April. The idea was to get a bit more in shape for summer, and I was having no luck on my own, so I found a local guy and his wife and signed up because they had good reviews and people seemed to like them.
They started me on a fairly standard diet plan. Would prepare meals ahead of time, with a tiny bit of overhead for snacking. Measured out, my intake on a daily basis is about 1200-1500 calories. In addition, of course, I was given a workout regimen. It varies day to day but 3 days a week I do weights and 2 days a week I do cardio. Usually a light jog for 20 minutes. I'm not entirely certain what I burn on these workouts. Maybe 3-400 calories an hour?
They had advertised that they would not be available in person for April... and as it turns out they have not been present for May either. I don't know what difference that makes as far as my routine goes, but it feels worth mentioning.
To get straight to the point, things are not working out. A BMR calculator tells me that for my activity level, I need about 2200 calories a day to maintain my weight. Despite my daily deficit of ~700 to 1000 calories, which accounts for my workout, I am not seeing nearly any loss on a weekly basis... and some weeks I am even gaining. At first I figured it was muscle, but I dropped that idea when some weeks I'd go down a pound and others I'd go up a pound. I went up three pounds one week and cried for an hour. I just weighed 20 minutes ago. Two pounds up from last week. I'M ONLY DOING WHAT MY TRAINER SAYS. THIS MAKES NO SENSE TO ME.
The one week I saw meaningful loss was the week I fasted. 3 pounds down. Incredible to me that in order to see the progress I should realistically be seeing from these workouts and this diet, I have to just not eat altogether. Clearly not healthy, but it works!! So what am I to do then!?
I need someone to make me understand why I am not seeing progress despite following my trainer's regimen and diet TO THE LETTER. I am so frustrated and tired and anxious all the time, and just stepping on the scale every Sunday fills me with so much dread. I have been to a doctor. I have asked about Diabetes, I have been told I don't have thyroid issues, I have no known conditions that could possibly hinder weight loss. I drink plenty of water. My sleep isn't the best, but surely getting two less hours of sleep per night than is recommended is not what is causing me to gain a pound by eating 600 calories worth of food. Maybe I'm doing the workouts incorrectly? Or maybe it really has just been muscle gain this entire time... I don't know.
Help.

For context, I have a 2018 Chevy Silverado regular cab, after much thought I believe my best option is to replace the 2 speakers in the dash and the 2 door speakers. The dash speakers are 2-3/4" midrange speakers that also holds the tweeters. My question is, when replacing the dash speakers with the same design Midrange/Tweeter, I am left with option of either installing a 2 way coaxial speaker in the door or buying a component speaker but leaving out the tweeter since it’s already in the dash speakers. Is it okay to only use the woofer in the component speaker? If not then isn’t 4 tweeters in a regular cab a bit too much?
Any help is appreciated, I am also open to any advice/discussions about car audio since it’s all I’m learning about recently.

It all started Friday, when we (myself and my roommate James) went fishing at one of the local lakes. Or, at least we tried to go fishing. It's Spring but the lake we drove to was still frozen. Ice fishing wasn’t something we’d ever done, but we figured it couldn't be too difficult. When we arrived I tentatively tested the ice and it seemed solid, so we ventured further out. The ice cracked underfoot in a few places, but neither of us were very concerned. Once we got to a nice spot in the middle I sat down on one of the buckets we’d brought and started fitting our poles with hooks. While I was doing that, James set about trying to make a hole in the ice. He started by stomping on it with his foot to no effect. Then, he grabbed his bucket and began hammering away at it.
“Need some help over there?” I said in a somewhat teasing tone.
“No I’ve got it, I just need a better spot, this one’s much too hard.” he said, jumping on the spot as proof.
“Whoa don’t do that! If the ice breaks you’ll fall in and I’d have to save you, then as payment you’d have to treat me to a beer at Shelby’s.”
“Man you know I don’t like that place, it's so dingy. But as I said, the ice won’t break. I’m going to look for another spot.”
“Alright, well I’m done with the poles. Let me know if you need any help then.”
“Awesome, you can see the fish swimming under the ice over here. This is the spot, I know it!”
“Great! I’ll move our gear over.”
Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and a small splash. I looked over and saw James had his foot stuck in the ice.
“Hey you alright? Don’t move, let me come pull you out.” I said, dropping our poles and walking over.
“No I don’t need any help, I just need to pull my leg out. This water is cold as hell!”
“Yeah I bet. I’m coming over anyway just in case.”
“Nah I got it, see?” he said, before aggressively trying to pull his foot out of the hole. Almost immediately he lost his balance, and fell forward slamming into the dark patch of ice. I heard the surface give way and saw him fall into the water. I ran over to the hole and tried to see him, but the water was too muddy. Frantically, I plunged my arms into the water and grabbed randomly hoping to find a purchase on James. My arms started burning, and after a few minutes I had to pull them out. I started panicking and didn’t know if I should jump in after him. I decided I would call 911 first, even though I knew there’s nothing they could do, and then would jump in after him. But just as I dialed the number I saw a hand come out of the water. I dropped my phone and grabbed it, heaving a muddy body onto the ice and pulling it towards more solid ground. It was James, he was covered in mud and some grass, but other than that seemed perfectly fine. He wasn’t even shivering, nor did he seem particularly stressed. Once I’d helped him to his feet he stood and turned towards the hole in the ice, looking at it pensively.
“Are you alright James?” I asked. He didn’t respond, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the hole towards the shore. I’d suddenly remembered that not shivering was a symptom of severe hypothermia, something that would only get worse in those wet clothes of his. I almost had to drag him away, but he offered no resistance, just kept looking behind him at the hole. When we reached the car I turned the heater to maximum, and undressed James. I gave him my jacket and wrapped him in a blanket I had in the back.
“James? Can you hear me? I’m taking you to a clinic now, there’s one only 15 minutes away.” I started the GPS and pulled out of the small recreation area, but before I could get onto the road James grabbed me and started screaming.
“TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK”
I jumped and hit my head on the roof of the car.
“Dammit James you scared the crap out of me, are you all right?”
He let go of me, and whispered “Take me back.”
“No, we’re going to a clinic. You're clearly hypothermic, you're not even shivering but you’re ice cold. End of discussion.” I said, and then continued onto the road towards the clinic. I focused on the road, but I could feel his eyes on me.
“We’ll come back another day.” I said. I quickly glanced to my left, and was startled to see he was looking directly into my eyes.
“Alright,” he whispered, before slowly looking away and out the window.
We spent the rest of the drive in silence, until we reached the hospital. The doctor said he didn’t have hypothermia, but gave him some dry clothes and recommended standing by the heater until he warmed up. James nodded, but headed straight for the car. I quickly said thanks to the doctor, and followed James. It would take an hour to get to our apartment, so I flipped through my CD collection.
“Let’s see… I’ve got the Cars, and we’re in a car so it seems like a worthy choice.” I smiled at him, it was a joke I’d told many times before that usually got an eye roll, and occasionally a laugh. But this time James didn’t give me either, and instead continued looking out the window. “Alright” I said. “Let’s try something you like.” I pulled an Elton John CD out of its sleeve and popped it in the stereo. Elton John is his favorite, and he can’t help but sing along to Rocketman. This was the first time he hadn’t. He even sang to it when I picked him up after his girlfriend dumped him in college.
When we finally arrived at our apartment I pulled into the parking space at the back of our building. James didn’t say a word and silently followed me to our door. Once inside, he went over to the couch, lied down, and closed his eyes. I thought he was probably shaken by his experience and needed some time alone, so I let him be and went to my room. I was a bit worried about him so I spent the day at home Saturday, but he still wouldn’t make conversation with me. Then in the evening, he came out of his room and sat down next to me.
“Take me back, " he whispered.
“Take you back where exactly?”
“To the lake, you said you’d take me back.”
“Oh yeah I guess I said that. Honestly, I don’t really trust the ice after what happened, we should wait a month or so until it fully melts and then just fish like we normally do.”
“But you promised. You said we’d go back another day.”
“Yes, when the ice melts. Maybe it’ll just take a few more weeks.” I said, perplexed at his insistence.
“I need to go back.” he said, eyes suddenly locking with mine.
“You don’t need to go back, you want to go back alright? We are not going back so soon, I’d be stressed out the whole time. You could’ve died, you know.”
“So you won’t take me back?”
“That is correct, the lake is much too dangerous and you’ve been super quiet ever since we got back. I’m going out with Dale tonight, but when I get back we should talk about what happened and try and work through it alright? I’ll be back late, but text me if you need anything. Also, don’t forget it's your turn to make dinner.”
Then I left, and went to meet up with my friend Dale. We had more than a few drinks, and talked about a recent hunting trip he’d been on with his son. Dale has a way of continuing conversations way longer than you’d think possible, but because I don’t see him as much as I used to I let him talk all he wants. Needless to say, I got in pretty late and was very hungry. I didn’t see anything on the counter, so I figured James had wrapped dinner up in the fridge. Standard procedure when I’m out with Dale, who never fails to keep me out all night. But, when I looked in the fridge there was nothing there.
James loved to cook and never missed an opportunity to try out a new recipe on me. I saw his door was open, so I popped my head into his room to see if he was still up. I was surprised to see that he wasn't there, so I decided to see where he was using Find My Friends. When I saw that he was in the middle of a random forest I was confused, until I realized he was heading to the lake on foot. I was very concerned and immediately raced to my car. Admittedly, I had had a few drinks, but I’m a big guy and it was an emergency so I drove out anyway. There wasn’t anyone on the road this late regardless, and all I could think about was James falling through the ice again.
It was very dark when I arrived at the lake. It was still frozen, just as before, but I could make out a figure in the center illuminated by the moonlight. I quickly hurried to the edge and cautiously stepped closer to the figure, ice sometimes cracking underfoot. As I walked I could see a few holes in the ice, presumably caused by animals falling under. I heard splashing water to my left and saw a muddy deer somehow manage to stumble out of the water. It was dragging a dark mass alongside it, and quickly moved into the darkness of the forest out of sight. I heard a yelp as something fell through the water to my right just as I approached James.
He stood with his back toward me, staring into a large hole in the ice.
“James, I saw a lot of holes in the ice on my way over to you. I really don't think this is safe. Let’s go home. I’m worried you might not be thinking clearly, you’re putting us both in danger right now. We really shouldn't be on the ice.”
“Look,” he said, without turning.
I walked up beside him, and looked into the hole. The water was crystal clear, and I could see a naked body tangled in the weeds. Suddenly, James stepped forward and jumped into the hole. Stunned, I watched him move towards the body before the mud obscured my vision. After a few seconds his hand came out of the water reaching towards me. I grabbed it, and with some effort pulled him and the body out onto the ice, hearing a subtle crack as their collective weight bore down on the lake's surface.
“James? What is happening right now?” I said.
He didn’t answer, just stood up and looked at the body with a curious look on his face. He started to wipe the mud off the body with his sleeve, and I realized the corpse had James’ face. They were identical, except for the fact that the body was naked and James was clothed.
“What the fuck? Who is this? Why did you know there was a body here? Why does he look like you?” I said nervously.
In lieu of an answer, James turned to look at me with a confused expression. I backed away slowly and clutched my phone in my pocket ready to call 911, when, suddenly, a muddy deer emerged from the forest and began to approach James. As it got closer I saw it had a bloodied deer leg in its mouth. It moved quickly, and was next to James within seconds. The deer dropped the leg, walked over to the body, and began to lightly chew the dead doppelganger's arm. It looked at James, then back at the body and walked back to where it had dropped the deer leg. Then, it put it back in its mouth and began to chew, before looking back at James again.
“Oh, thanks.” James said.
The deer bowed its head slightly, then returned to the forest.
Suddenly, James dropped to his knees and lifted up an arm of the body. He immediately began tearing into the flesh, savagely ripping off pieces with his muddy hands and teeth. I felt vomit come up my throat, and I blacked out.
Next thing I knew I was in bed. I felt cold, dirty, and tired. When I left my room James was making breakfast as if nothing had happened.
“Good morning,” I said warily.
“Good morning! How’d you sleep?”
I didn’t respond, I could still see the body being torn apart on the ice, but the memories were hazy. I wasn’t drunk at the time but I had been drinking prior, and somehow I was back in the apartment like I’d never left. It all seemed a bit surreal, but I have never had a dream so disturbing before. I looked out the window and saw that my car was still in its spot, but I was also still wearing my clothes from the bar, which initially seemed a tad odd.
“Are you alright?” James said, with a concerned look on his face. “You know you took quite a nasty fall last night. You really shouldn’t drink so much.”
“I fell? When?” I said, touching my head and confirming that it was a bit sore.
“You came home last night after you went drinking with Dale and I guess you slipped on the doormat or something, I heard a thud and found you passed out cold on the floor.”
“Huh, you’re right I guess I did drink a bit too much” I lied. “But you know Dale, he’s just got a way of keeping you on that stool.”
“Clearly! Just know you can call me to pick you up anytime, you don’t have to stumble home all by yourself.”
“Thanks, anyway I’ve got to get going. See you later?”
“Not hungry? I’ve got some eggs here, they’re crunchy, just the way you like them!”
By ‘crunchy’ James meant he had put the entirety of the egg into the bowl and whisked it all together; this was his signature. He lived with his grandfather for a bit as a kid, and apparently the madman refused to separate the shells, claiming they were a great source of calcium. James was always trying to get me to try them, but I always declined.
“No thanks,” I said, unable to suppress a small smile. “I’ve got some errands to run, I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Alright your loss, see you later! Don’t forget it's your turn to make dinner.”
“Of course.” I said, walking out the door and grabbing my keys from the bowl.
When I got to my car I started heading towards the supermarket, but stopped beside the road once I was out of sight of the building. My seat felt slightly damp and the interior had a bit of an earthy smell, so I opened the window. I hoped that I had dreamt the whole thing, but every time I thought about what I’d seen I felt nauseous again. I had to be sure, so I decided to go back to the lake. I was paranoid that James might use Find My Friends on me, so I actually did end up going to the supermarket and hid my phone nearby, and just hoped if he did check it he would only look once. Then I booted up my GPS and headed back to the lake.
As usual, when I arrived the small parking lot was empty. I quickly headed to the lake and very carefully walked towards the center. As I walked my memories of the night prior kept flashing before me, the muddy deer dragging something across the ice, the crunch of the ice beneath my feet. Eventually I reached the spot where James had fallen. The ice was clean, no body in sight. I didn’t even see any blood. I very nervously looked down into the water, but again didn't see anything suspicious. Perhaps this should’ve convinced me it was a dream, but I’m much too stubborn for that, so I decided I would need to find a way to test James. I started heading back to the supermarket in my car to retrieve my phone, and thought up a plan.
When I arrived at the store I grabbed my phone and bought some groceries. Then I went about actually completing my errands as if it were a regular Sunday, albeit much more slowly than I would normally. I managed to stretch out my chores until 4:00 PM, then headed home to start dinner. When I arrived James was on the couch watching television.
“Wow you were gone a long time.” he said.
“Well, I had quite a bit to do. But don’t worry, I’m ready to make you some dinner.” I said cheerfully.
I made spaghetti while he watched Netflix, and when it was done set the table. James’ favorite drink is apple juice, he drinks it paired with almost any meal. So, as anticipated when I asked him what he wanted to drink he asked for it. I got us both opaque glasses, and poured him a cup filled with apple cider vinegar, myself with lemonade, then I called him over to the table.
“Bon Appétit!” I said dramatically, with a flourish of my hand.
“I’m starving, thanks for making one of my favorites.” he said.
“Well, we both had a bit of a difficult weekend, so I’m counting on you to make Shepherd's pie sometime next week.”
“Definitely! You know, you're actually a really good Italian cook! If I didn’t know better I’d think there might be a little rat pulling the strings up there.”
“Well I was classically trained by the best YouTube chefs.” I said, as I watched him down half the glass of vinegar without batting an eye.
After dinner I went to my room and left James with the dishes. Then, I sat down on my computer and began organizing my thoughts. Now I’m just waiting till he goes to sleep before I make my move. I’m going to creep into his room tonight and kill him using an axe I snuck in when I brought up the groceries. I don’t know what he is, but I do know James, my James, is dead. The only thing I can do now is kill the monster I saw eating him. I just hope the element of surprise will be enough, and I pray I'll be able to go through with it when the time comes. I just have to wait for him to turn out the lights, it'll be any moment now.

Hey all,
My 2021 Crosstrek has a 2" lift and currently running 235/75R15 tires on +15MM Offset wheels.
Slight rub and I'm sure there is no way I could run rally armor mud flaps right now as I would like to.
Are 225's going to be too small looking in the wheel well? Can you run rally armor mud flaps with the 225s?
Thank you all for any insight that you can give.

I’m looking to buy a new bike and I know next to nothing. I would love any tips on things I should be considering. Right now I have a heavy single-speed that isn’t in great shape. I bought it for flat ground 10-minute trips to the gym. For that, it is perfect. For anything else it is garbage.
Me: I’m a big guy. 6’3” 230ish lbs, strong legs, reasonably fit, but cardio isn’t great yet.
Use: Hilly, asphalt, bike paths. I have an awesome park near my house with 20 miles of hilly trails I’ll be riding a 3-5 times per week. 3 miles of flat ground road to get there, asphalt paths in good condition when I get there. A few bumpy wooden bridges. I plan on branching out to other areas, but that is my primary riding location.
I’ve been hitting the trails with my single-speed. It absolutely bombs downhill, but the inclines are killer and the bike just isn’t made that well. I feel like I’m replacing something every other week and now it’s this half rusty/half decent Frankenstein that makes way too much noise.
I’d like to find something in the $800-$1500 range (with some wiggle room) that’s better for hilly, asphalt, trail-riding and can stand up to the use. Definitely need some gears. I want to go fast, but I’m not trying to win any races. I don’t know anything about drop bars or how wide the tires should be or any of that. That’s where I’m hoping to lean on some of you.
I have a huge discount for Surly, All-City, and Salsa bikes so I’m going to stick to those brands. I’ve been reading about road bikes, all-road bikes, gravel bikes, commuter bikes, etc. I can’t really discern the differences. All-road and gravel sound like what I’m looking for maybe?
Any tips to get me pointed in the right direction or specific bikes I should look at? Thanks.

I currently am a server and I find my “real life” job gets in the way of camming. I only have about 1500 CB followers but I tend to do pretty well on a busy day. I’m scared of just going full time CB but I love the idea of it for my job is extremely tiring. I’m also worried about money security because of the slow days. I generally need around 2500 a month. Do you think I could do camming full time and meet my financial needs? Ladies help! Lol

Disclaimer: Apologies if this isn’t the right sub. Willing to delete and repost elsewhere if that’s the case.
I’m looking to buy a new bike and I know next to nothing other than what I’ve read in the last hour. I would love any tips on things I should be considering. Right now I have a heavy single-speed that isn’t in great shape. I bought it for flat ground 10-minute trips to the gym. For that, it is perfect. For anything else it is garbage.
Me: I’m a big guy. 6’3” 230ish lbs, strong legs, reasonably fit, but cardio isn’t great yet.
Use: Hilly, asphalt, bike paths. I have an awesome park near my house with 20 miles of hilly trails I’ll be riding a 3-5 times per week. 3 miles of flat ground road to get there, asphalt paths in good condition when I get there. A few bumpy wooden bridges. I plan on branching out to other areas, but that is my primary riding location.
I’ve been hitting the trails with my single-speed. It absolutely bombs downhill, but the inclines are killer and the bike just isn’t made that well. I feel like I’m replacing something every other week and now it’s this half rusty/half decent Frankenstein that makes way too much noise.
I’d like to find something in the $800-$1500 range (with some wiggle room) that’s better for hilly, asphalt, trail-riding and can stand up to the use. Definitely need some gears. I want to go fast, but I’m not trying to win any races. I don’t know anything about drop bars or how wide the tires should be or any of that. That’s where I’m hoping to lean on some of you.
I have a huge discount for Surly, All-City, and Salsa bikes so I’m going to stick to those brands. I’ve been reading about road bikes, all-road bikes, gravel bikes, commuter bikes, etc. I can’t really discern the differences. All-road and gravel sound like what I’m looking for maybe?
Any tips to get me pointed in the right direction or specific bikes I should look at? Thanks.

Since it seems that no one can be bothered to search the sub for the word "mechanic" before making a new post, I searched it for you and summarized two years' worth of posts below.
TL;DR the recommendation is almost always "Rising Sun Motors" unless you've got an unusual vehicle or situation. Also, apparently XSrcing has spent the past couple years quietly helping poor people fix their cars for free/cheap, so everyone be sure to buy that guy a beer next time you see him.
2023-05-23 Body shops that work on 90s Hondas

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1995 Honda Del Sol body work
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Joe’s Automotive Repair

2023-05-17 Where's my Subaru Mechanic?!

• Vehicle and/or issue: Subaru 2013 Forester
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Northwest Rally Sports, Bruce Cox Imports, Dewey Griffin Subaru, TK Automotive Repair, Hi-Tech Automotive

2023-05-15 Mechanic for an 89 Trooper

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1989 Isuzu Trooper
• Commenters suggested: Unlimited Service Downtown, Axton Automotive

2023-05-10 Volvo Mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: Volvo
• Commenters suggested: Rainbow Auto Service, Bruce Cox Imports, Manieri Motorworks

2023-05-09 Subaru Mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: Subaru
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Harmony Motorworks, Northwest Rally Sports

2023-05-04 Chuck's Midtown Motors?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Prius, asking about specific mechanic
• Commenters suggested: Chuck’s Midtown Motors Automotive Repair

2023-04-29 Anyone know of a good mechanic around here?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Autotech Car and Truck Repair, Bruce Cox Imports, SK Motorsport, Birchwood Auto Repair

2023-04-19 Local mechanics

• Vehicle and/or issue: walnut blasting valves
• Commenters suggested: SK Motorsport

2023-04-19 Classic Car Mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1972 Chevrolet truck body work
• Commenters suggested: Bailey’s Classic Collision, No.1 Automotive Body Repair, Heavy Metal Custom Shop, Nitro Autolab

2023-04-17 Bellingham Automotive is SLIMEY and will steal from you. They tampered with my car then gave me a nasty attitude about it.

• Vehicle and/or issue: unhappy customer
• Commenters suggested: OP deleting their post, Bellingham Automotive, Trottners Auto Repair Service, Sterling Automotive

2023-04-08 Looking for a diesel mechanic for 97 e350 short bus

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1997 Ford E350 bus
• Commenters suggested: SMG Equipment and Marine, Unlimited Service Bakerview

2023-03-23 Classic car mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: air-cooled Volkswagen
• Commenters suggested: SK Motorsport, HMC Garage, Northwest European Autoworks, Peace Vans (in Seattle)

2023-03-17 Pro/Amateur mobile mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: free/cheap mobile mechanic for person living in a van
• Commenters suggested: XSrcing

2023-02-27 A trustworthy mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Cornerstone Auto Care, Axton Automotive, Rising Sun Motors, Hi-Tech Automotive, Birchwood Auto Repair, Harmony Motorworks

2023-02-21 ISO mechanic for classic Chevy pickup

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1958 Chevrolet pickup truck inspection and fluids
• Commenters suggested: Heavy Metal Custom Shop

2023-02-15 good mechanics?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Nissan Altima CVT transmission
• Commenters suggested: TK Automotive Repair, Midas, Barrett Transmission Specialties, Hi-Tech Automotive, Flat Black Automotive

2023-02-15 mechanics that do free / cheap diagnosis in town ? (not talking check engine lights btw)

• Vehicle and/or issue: free/cheap diagnostic
• Commenters suggested: Complete Auto Repair Service, Rising Sun Motors, Hi-Tech Automotive, Les Schwab

2023-02-03 Mechanic Recommendation

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1998 Volkswagen Beetle manual transmission
• Commenters suggested: TK Automotive Repair, Dr. John’s Auto Clinic, Euro Sport (???), Cunningham Tuning

2023-02-02 Car Problems

• Vehicle and/or issue: windshield wiper motor replacement completion help
• Commenters suggested: XSrcing, Trottners Auto Repair Service

2023-01-30 22re yota mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1994 Toyota pickup truck
• Commenters suggested: Hi-Tech Automotive, Rising Sun Motors, Flat Black Automotive, Axton Automotive, Sterling Automotive

2023-01-12 Seeking mechanic recommendations for 10 year old ford work truck. Computer is dying and it needs a junkyard transplant.

• Vehicle and/or issue: Ford truck computer transplant
• Commenters suggested: Birchwood Auto Repair

2023-01-12 Transmission Mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2015 Honda Civic transmission
• Commenters suggested: Barrett Transmission Specialties

2022-12-30 Mechanic recommendations?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Flat Black Automotive, Rising Sun Motors

2022-12-05 Are there ANY decent auto shops in this town?

• Vehicle and/or issue: unhappy customer / general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Panacea Automotive Repair, Alignment & Brakes Plus, Rising Sun Motors, OP learning to fix their own vehicle if they want to be cheap about it

2022-11-25 Jurachic Auto

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Joe’s Automotive Repair, Flat Black Automotive, Nitro Autolab

2022-11-11 Suzuki mechanic near bham

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2006 Suzuki XL-7 timing chain
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors

2022-10-22 How do I find a good mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Sterling Automotive, XSrcing, Rising Sun Motors, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Davis Automotive, Hi-Tech Automotive

2022-09-27 Garage/Mechanic Recommendation to fit a tall (9-10ish ft) camper van?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1989 Chevrolet G20 camper van, garage with a lift that can handle tall vehicles
• Commenters suggested: Camping World (in Burlington), Unlimited Service Bakerview, Northwest Chevrolet

2022-09-19 Best Affordable Mechanic in Bellingham

• Vehicle and/or issue: oil change and inspection
• Commenters suggested: Master Lube, Sterling Automotive

2022-09-15 Is there a car repair shop that takes payment plans in or around Bellingham?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2005 Subaru Outback, payment plans
• Commenters suggested: XSrcing, Firestone Complete Auto Care

2022-08-29 Mechanic/someone who can diagnose a transmission sound for free, trying to get to a wedding.

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2000 Ford Ranger transmission, free/cheap diagnostic
• Commenters suggested: Midas, XSrcing, Firestone Complete Auto Care

2022-08-16 Mechanic shops

• Vehicle and/or issue: truck tune up
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Sterling Automotive, Flat Black Automotive

2022-08-06 Honest affordable mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Sterling Automotive, Whatcom Radiator & Battery (closed?), Bernard Tech Services, Naztek Automotive, Sound Truck & Auto Repair

2022-08-02 Oil change for prius

• Vehicle and/or issue: Prius oil change
• Commenters suggested: Master Lube, Sehome Express Lube, Rising Sun Motors, Lucky’s Auto Shop, Rod’s Japanese Auto Care, literally anywhere because it's just an oil change

2022-07-20 Any recommendations for a good mechanic to replace a catalytic converter?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Honda replace stolen catalytic converter
• Commenters suggested: Flat Black Automotive, Rising Sun Motors, Bellingham Automotive, Panacea Automotive Repair, Marlin’s Auto Service, Service Pro, Faction Automotive, Davis Automotive, Harmony Motorworks

2022-06-13 Respectful/honest mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Honda CR-V AC, respectful to women
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Flat Black Automotive, Bellingham Auto Air, Reference Automotive, Sterling Automotive, TK Automotive Repair, Toyota of Bellingham, Juracich Auto Repair (closed?), Steves Auto Repair, Faction Automotive, Integrity Auto Care (in Arlington), NAPA Auto Parts Blaine, Pete’s Auto Repair, Import Autosport (in Anacortes), Whatcom Radiator & Battery (closed?)

2022-05-30 Old Chevy Truck 88' best mechanic.

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1988 Chevrolet truck
• Commenters suggested: Marine Drive Auto Services, Unlimited Service Downtown, Chuck’s Midtown Motors Automotive Repair, Bellingham Automotive, Davis Automotive

2022-05-30 Trustworthy/not scammy mechanics in the area?

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Joe’s Automotive Repair, Steves Auto Repair, Dr. John’s Auto Clinic, Rising Sun Motors, Superior Auto, Hi-Tech Automotive, Toyota of Bellingham, Sterling Automotive, Harmony Motorworks

2022-05-19 Anyone have a recommendation on a good mechanic to replace brake pads on an older Subaru? Thanks!

• Vehicle and/or issue: Subaru brakes
• Commenters suggested: Alignment & Brakes Plus, Rising Sun Motors, Harmony Motorworks, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Northwest Rally Sports, Chuck’s Midtown Motors Automotive Repair, Birchwood Auto Repair, TK Automotive Repair

2022-05-04 Looking for a good mechanic!

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1990 Ford E-250 Econoline van engine replacement
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Sterling Automotive, Lucky’s Auto Shop, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Rude’s Auto Repair

2022-04-09 Motorcycle mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: assorted motorcycles
• Commenters suggested: Cycle Therapy, BBRP, OP just has bad gas

2022-02-09 Prius mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2010 Prius
• Commenters suggested: Unlimited Service Bakerview, Unlimited Service Downtown, Bellingham Automotive, Rising Sun Motors, Toyota of Bellingham, Midas, Lifestyle Motor Co

2022-02-02 Mechanic recommendation

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2004 Toyota RAV4
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Sterling Automotive, Davis Automotive, SK Motorsport, Hi-Tech Automotive

2022-02-02 Auto Repair

• Vehicle and/or issue: Honda PIlot seatbelt & airbags, mobile mechanic
• Commenters suggested: Unlimited Service Downtown, Rising Sun Motors, Whatcom Radiator & Battery (closed?), Davis Automotive

2022-02-02 Any mobile mechanics/someone to check out a car tomorrow?

• Vehicle and/or issue: mobile mechanic for pre-purchase inspection of used car
• Commenters suggested: AR MECHANIC, Trottners Auto Repair Service

2022-01-22 Mechanic Recommendation

• Vehicle and/or issue: Ford pickup truck
• Commenters suggested: Davis Automotive, Dan's Automotive (closed?), Sterling Automotive, Rod’s Japanese Auto Care

2022-01-20 Need help checking out a used car

• Vehicle and/or issue: pre-purchase inspection of used car
• Commenters suggested: Joe’s Automotive Repair, Rising Sun Motors

2022-01-16 Diverter for exhaust

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1990 Ford E350 van exhaust
• Commenters suggested: Ben Richards Fabrication (in Burlington)

2022-01-14 Mechanic Recommendations?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2001 Toyota Camry fuel pump
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Sterling Automotive, Rod’s Japanese Auto Care, Dr. John’s Auto Clinic, Birchwood Auto Repair, Trottners Auto Repair Service

2022-01-02 Does anyone here know a mechanic that can come to my place? My car won’t start.

• Vehicle and/or issue: mobile mechanic
• Commenters suggested: O’Reilly Auto Parts (to test battery), some dude named Will

2021-12-21 Car broke down - need advice

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2008 Suburu Outback
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Steves Auto Repair, Sterling Automotive, Birchwood Auto Repair, Bruce Cox Imports, Joe’s Automotive Repair

2021-11-30 In desperate need of a mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2008 Ford Fusion rough idling
• Commenters suggested: Premier Auto Repair (in Mount Vernon), Faction Automotive

2021-11-28 Car Mechanic Open on Sunday

• Vehicle and/or issue: windshield wipers, open Sunday
• Commenters suggested: AutoZone Auto Parts, Firestone Complete Auto Care

2021-11-17 Looking for mechanic for '83 Ford ranger

• Vehicle and/or issue: 1983 Ford Ranger
• Commenters suggested: Foreign Auto Clinic, Panacea Automotive Repair, Van Loo’s Auto Service, Hi-Tech Automotive, some dude named Zach

2021-11-12 Subie Mech

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2004 Subaru Forester
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Northwest Rally Sports, Harmony Motorworks, Lucky’s Auto Shop, AR MECHANIC, Chuck’s Midtown Motors Automotive Repair, Bruce Cox Imports

2021-11-05 Looking for a Volvo mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2000 Volvo V40 electrical issues
• Commenters suggested: Rainbow Auto Service, Harmony Motorworks, Keith Cox Autobahn

2021-10-15 Recommendations for experienced Element mechanics?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Honda Element
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Sterling Automotive, TK Automotive Repair, Trottners Auto Repair Service

2021-10-04 FIAT Mechanic?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Fiat
• Commenters suggested: SK Motorsport, Keith Cox Autobahn, Rising Sun Motors, Northwest European Autoworks

2021-09-30 Toyota Service Mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: Toyota
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Marlin’s Auto Service, Davis Automotive

2021-09-19 Subaru owners of Bellingham!

• Vehicle and/or issue: Subaru
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Northwest Rally Sports, Bruce Cox Imports, Unlimited Service Bakerview, Flat Black Automotive, Dewey Griffin Subaru

2021-09-13 Seeking car repair recommendations

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2002 Ford leaking oil
• Commenters suggested: Sterling Automotive, Rising Sun Motors, Unlimited Service Bakerview, Birchwood Auto Repair, Bruce Cox Imports

2021-09-10 Keith Cox Autobahn? Mechanic recommendation?

• Vehicle and/or issue: 2010 Mercedes AMG, asking about specific mechanic
• Commenters suggested: Keith Cox Autobahn, Bruce Cox Imports, Harmony Motorworks, Meridian Auto And Tire

2021-08-31 Anywhere in town work on Lexus vehicles?

• Vehicle and/or issue: Lexus SUV (GX470)
• Commenters suggested: Harmony Motorworks, Rising Sun Motors, Toyota of Bellingham, TK Automotive Repair

2021-08-11 Looking for Subaru mechanic

• Vehicle and/or issue: Subaru brakes
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Northwest Rally Sports, Sterling Automotive, Axton Automotive

2021-07-09 Car maintenance

• Vehicle and/or issue: general inquiry
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, Firestone Complete Auto Care, Sterling Automotive, Barnett Automotive, Joe’s Automotive Repair, Whatcom Radiator & Battery (closed?), Panacea Automotive Repair, TK Automotive Repair

2021-06-01 Local mechanic shops

• Vehicle and/or issue: pre-purchase inspection of used car
• Commenters suggested: Rising Sun Motors, AR MECHANIC, Birchwood Auto Repair, Hardman Auto Care (closed?), Keith Cox Autobahn, Trottners Auto Repair Service, Meridian Auto And Tire, Harmony Motorworks

My mechanic friend is stumped by what’s causing vibration in my 2010 Chevy Impala 3.5L so I’m asking for suggestions.
The vibrations occur at all speeds but it’s most noticeable when braking, especially from high speeds like exiting the highway. The vibration can be felt through steering wheel but it’s bad enough the whole car gets a little shaky.
Wheel bearing on the driver front has a little play, tie-rods and control arms are fine, and before you ask I had all brake pads and rotors replaced about two years ago (I was hoping it was warped rotors to begin with but new parts didn’t fix the vibration).
It’s gotten a bit worse recently and I’m tired of having a car that shakes when it shouldn’t. Any help or suggestions are welcome. TIA 🙏

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The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County in Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a nearby ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, making a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.